


Blessed Jewel

by Lizlow



Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Lizlow
Summary: A fit of giggles livens the air, rising it higher, freer, than ever before. Cardia’s eyes? They’re shining, brightly, but she’d say her daughter’s arefarmore illuminating. What of the others? Surely, they’d be brought to the brink of tears, by the beauty! And what of Lupin, the dearly-dashing husband and father?Lupin claims thembothequal, precious.





	Blessed Jewel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rubyexarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyexarch/gifts).



> Thank you very much! It was a pleasure to write this!

The fireplace is enveloping; the lights are welcoming. Nothing could chance being more benevolent an overture than a passage of time such as this, and none would have it any other way. In the simplest of terms: it is as it should be, and a soul would be none the wiser than to fall for the glamorous spell that this genteel mansion has to offer.

A fit of giggles livens the air, rising it higher, freer, than ever before. Cardia’s eyes? They’re shining, brightly, but she’d say her daughter’s are _far_ more illuminating. What of the others? Surely, they’d be brought to the brink of tears, by the beauty! And what of Lupin, the dearly-dashing husband and father?

Lupin claims them _both_ equal, precious.

That much is no contest, at all. These two ladies are the ones he loves the most in the world!

In regards to the rest of the celebration – _why!_ – it’s as spectacular as his name foretells! Lights garnishing the garden, and hope brandishing the halls! The wrapping that hugs the presents, delicately wrapped by Cardia (with assistance from this _handsome_ man’s hands) and marked by their dear daughter, rest in their thoughtfully-picked corner, to be opened very soon.

This is just how it’s meant to be and, perhaps, how it feels it will always be, in some form of spirit. This transcends what the two of them expected the year would end upon, in any case.

“My, my, how dotting our friends are. Not that I fault them for it.”

And, yes, sorting through those presented treasures would come later! It’s something that can’t be done properly with a curious and quite capable – to the pride of her parents – ball of energy here. If there’s any specific certainty, however, it’s that their sweet Bijou will adore each and every gift.

It brings such a delight to Cardia to think about it! The notes, those well-wished letters, from each and every one of them, dropped off at varying times, carry the purest of sentiments, and they each overwhelm her in a very good way. She’s thankful, sincerely, she is.

“They really are,” Cardia nods, “And I’m glad for it.” It proves that nothing about their time has detached them so. They are very much, in their own expression, Lupin’s gang ever still. Bonds do not simply vanish into the air.

Bijou’s feet _pattering_ against the floor is more a catch to gaze upon than any other glow, in this moment, and neither of them find themselves able to look away. Their dear girl, tiny, primped and primed back to the life she deserves to have, right up to her adorable fingers, bouncing about, is truly the best gift about this day. She, who was stolen away from abandonment on that very night, is a source of new life for all. To what heights will she soar? To whose side will she liken?

It’s to these questions, and much other excitement, that Lupin and Cardia toast their souls to, and take in, as though they are _actually_ drinking in the atmosphere – _near drunk_ on bliss alone. Bijou’s actions signal that there is still so much more to be had on this jolly eve, and Lupin is about to steal away Cardia’s heart a little more, as a favor returned and a kiss to give, but would that not be fair to the princess who tugs at Cardia’s side to hog _all_ the attention.

Instantly, Lupin decides his course. He is, of course, a gentleman.

“To my _dear rose_ and my _jewel_ ,” _whose lips turn up so similarly, as if reflecting each other_ – because, no matter the beginning, the end is that Bijou has her _mother’s_ smile – “would you grant me the honor?” Outwards, he holds his hand, inviting. “Shall we dance?” How _suave_ , he remains, but how _ever_ can the confident man drop _who he is_?

Bijou tilts her head, curiously, but soon she is all too eager to take her father’s hand. Oh, how outstanding the level of grand play it is, all on course, of _course_ , that was something that has been taken into account, given the little gem’s boundless energy, and the merry spirit of things.

Now this, _this_ is much preferred!

Cardia, too, follows, taking a hand of her husband’s and a hand of her daughter’s. It’s a clumsy display, this dance, but Lupin would say they’d steal the show at any ball, any day.

Such a wonderful mother Cardia is! (And Cardia would say the same of Lupin’s fatherhood). Of course, Lupin hadn’t any doubts. There is no one more amazing, more human, than her, the one with so much love filling her _soul_ , the one who was – _is_ – all too ready to shoulder more and more. She needn’t _ever_ feel that guilt that threatened to once more arch her back and slip her down, but if she does, Lupin and Bijou will be there to remind her that everything will be all right.

Hand-in-hand, they watch as the curtains are drawn, this stage becoming _their_ next act.

Plucked from the garden of the gallows and ever gracefully dropped into the song of hope, her desires of having a family of her own, with Lupin, were fulfilled. The look in Cardia’s eyes when the little baby reached out and tapped her tiny hand atop the clothing that covered the _Horologium,_ and touched Cardia’s _heart_ , is unforgettable.

Proudly, he sees it fluttering in the fire, and within the twirls and whirls that reverberate through the room.

Cardia’s care, the tenderness that she harbors with each lingering gaze… why, consider him _charmed_ all over again. He knows it well, how this meant the world over for her. When she holds her daughter to her chest, warmly in her arms, and watches the changes in her small expression turn from quaking fear, or shaking worry, to a comfortable joy, every inch of her spirit swells. Precious, there, beaming at her. That fondness is never-ending, filling the room, every room, in a manner that’s ever reflective of _her_.

It’s constant assurance that they are very much a family, rejoicing in this occasion. Of course, it’s a waltz of nothing short of grace, becoming the epitome of it, despite rhythm being lost to the moment. Nothing can hold back the cheer, sheer, that courses through their veins. Here it is, proof, more and more, that the greatest breaths to exist in this world are present.  

How darling – _kind!_ – fate is!

Ever guided by the realm of seemingly impossible possibilities, the fact that their fingers can touch, ungloved, beloved, lifts them higher, and higher. They’ve snatched a fair maiden from the grasp of injustice, and they’ve been kissed on the forehead by Lady Luck herself.

How much time has passed? Does it matter? The sky may be darkening, but surely the stars, too, would be greeting this most wondrous of first celebrations with an accompanying twinkle for each and every step.

As the clocks wind and _tick-tock_ and hours fly, as one would expect, Bijou’s movements begin to slow, her energy waning down. What fun they’ve shared, on this most tender of nights. The three retire their legs, seating themselves upon the couch, allowing the fire to light the shadows and lull them so.

And words, how they needn’t be said, but such feelings, such confirmations, cannot be held back so easily. Lupin’s voice, hushed so as to not rile and disturb Bijou, still only plays into the melody of the darkness.

“See, what did I tell you, Cardia? A gentleman never breaks his promise.”

“Mmm…” Perhaps it’s _awe_ that wraps around her, akin to a shawl, never leaving her shoulders. Or, perhaps it's something far more overwhelming. Regardless, it defends her, and tips the corners of Cardia’s eyes and mouth, allowing every last joyous emotion to slip out. “I believe in you. I always will.”

“And the same sentiment is bestowed upon you, _my lady_.”

Her smile is especially bright.

Bijou, too, holds one that reflects the power of Cardia’s, as told in a tale that will soon become timeless, and the charm of Lupin’s. _Why!_ If the others were here, they’d surely comment on how _adorable_ a little lady they have in their midst. Again and again, they’d hear no end! And that’s _natural!_ She’s a _crown jewel_ , and the world _must_ watch out, for ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’ Lupin surely will raise her in a polish of her own gleam. Just and fair, opportunity twirls about them, before waving behind them as their magnificent cape.

It’s not farfetched to say that the little girl will be spoilt, though not rotten, because a proper gentle-lady would have a level-head, and quick wit, which she’s certainly already taken plenty from the two that have taken to raising her, in this cordial home, if Lupin does say so himself.

Oh, how proud they are.

But, it really seems as though the princess is all tuckered out, laying against her parents, now sleeping, soundly, the satisfied and happy adults might add, as if she certainly wishes to stay there, with them, as if she _knows_ she’s ever adored and to be welcomed into these kind arms of theirs.

As through she belongs there. Lupin and Cardia’s answer to that will always, _always_ be that she, indeed, does.

Lupin looks upon them with nothing less than the upmost levels of affection.

“Oh, I do hope the others will drop in for a visit, and stay more than briefly…”

“Ah! I’ve no doubts they’ll call on us soon, Cardia. They’re not much for missing milestones.”

“You’ll never miss the opportunity to show off, will you?”

“Naturally!” Lupin’s ever confident grin comes through, powerfully, but it melts into softness when he sees how gleefully his wife laughs. Bijou’s happiness, too, in spite of her slumber, has yet to fade, and he’d fancy that it never should.

“Haha, that’s just how you are.”

“And this,” he kisses her on the cheek, smooth, “is how you are.”

“Oh, Lupin!” Cardia’s cheeks are a rosy-red. “Thank you! For everything.”

“Never forget, all I do is—“

But Cardia’s display, and the purely positive emotion adorning her, dispels all the whimsy in the world to because singularly hers, cutting him off entirely as he also bursts into his own fit of laughter. They’re careful not to shake Bijou with their bout of pleasure, but this familial feeling is not one to dissipate.

Kept between the folds of it all, are the memories. This is to the families basking in the glory of Her Majesty’s extravagant display, the ones with their own steps and struggles, that have reached this point as well. One wrong turn in life would have kept him desperate in the streets, or her by her lonesome in that cold mansion, or this sweet child left abandoned in her basket.

How fortunate, _utterly_ lucky, they are, and they’ll never risk denying that.

Very well could they be watching the Queen’s palace from the rooftops, or even chance the courtyard itself, should they not have chosen their own adobe for this celebration. That couple strolling about London, hand-in-hand with their child is no longer a distant fade within the fog. It’s crystalline, and it’s them.

A _found_ family proving, more and more, to those of her past, that she is alive, loved, not a monster at all. An absent _beast_ wouldn’t have the capacity to be a quarter the person Cardia is, nor the strength allotting to even think to try to be.

Oh, but there will be plenty of time to reminisce and share tales phenomenal and glorious and positively _human_ and _real_ another day.

His arm rests about Cardia, his other gently strokes Bijou’s head. Soft, skilled, a bright future. It’ll be just as they wish, he’s certain of it. Even if the course veers, the end-of-the-line is the present, set, beacon.

_How does he know what has yet to come?_ perchance, a right soul would inquire? ‘ _How does he know’!_ How _doesn’t_ he? Her dreams are his, and _he_ will make anything possible, or may the Queen’s Guard himself capture him well, and toss away the key.

Never mind those details and cast away any clouds, any anchors, that may be weighing down the airship and hold down your hats! The train’s destination is clear, and the passengers are boarded.

The most important conclusion _any_ bystander, friend, or foe can make, is that these three are not alone, not any longer, and they won’t be, for many, many years of merriment to come.  



End file.
